Hunter XD
by ZCero
Summary: He had chosen become a hunter, someone willing to make a stand against the three factions roaming into the human world. And he died, forced to relieve his mistakes over and over again for all eternity. Well, until a certain Red Dragon found him and send him back into the world. Now, trapped in an entirely different time from his own, how will he be able to adapt?


_**Hello everybody, ZCero here. Thank you for reading my first attempt to publish a story in this page. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did while writing it.**_

_**Disclaimer. Highschool DxD belongs to its rightfull owner. I own nothing but my OCs**_

* * *

"Dialogue"

'_Thoughts'_

'Flashbacks'

"**Dragon speaking or technique being used"**

* * *

'The calmness that had surrounded him ever since he had conscience was being hastily sifting between intervals, forcing him to change his position until he was facing downwards. Faints screams of pain could be listened to and the atmosphere on the outside was that of physical effort and pain, although oddly enough, on the same time there was joy. The mixture of emotions was unlike anything he knew before. He was alone as well; the other presence he had grown used to in the warmth, suddenly gone as if it had never existed at all. Suddenly, everything around him wrapped tightly and he began to be pushed down an opening. There was something coming from it, something that hurt his eyes so much that he had to close them.

Physical pain then came from his front side and a scream escaped from his mouth. Everything was cold, colder anything than he had ever knew, but it was not long before something surrounded him entirely. It was not as warm as before, and it was not as soothing as the warmth, but it was far better than being left out in that cold. He heard a relieved laughter and cries of joy.

"This one's a boy!" exclaimed a female voice he had never listened to before.

"How-Ugh…How will we name him….?" Her voice was closer to him and it sounded greatly exhausted and in pain, but as in the warmth, there was joy. He…knew that voice. It had always been there, ever since he was conscious…

"Rhys…"

"_Rhys, keep thy hand still and held firmly the bow._" Father whispered to his ear as he placed his hands over his, putting him in the correct position.

They were deep into the woods, having left the farm at dawn. Hidden inside the bushes near the pond, they had waited patiently as the sun rose above their heads, until a pair of deer appeared right in the opposite site of them. His cheeks hurt so much because of the undying smile on his face since he woke up and he was making a great effort not to laugh in excitement and scaring the animals a few yards away from them. How long had he longed for Father to teach him to use a bow! For far too many nights he had contemplated Grandfather's bow above the fireplace, waiting for his opportunity, and now, he would finally be able to prove to Father how capable he was. Unknowingly to both Mother and Father, he had sometimes rose from his bed at night and grabbed the bow, trying to imitate the posture Father always seemed to make when he had it (he had been lucky that Carys always slept until dawn)

"_Everything inside each one of us is borrowed and like __**one**__ of these deer' _Father made special emphasis on that word_ 'it will have to be returned one day to Nature, for others to use_" Father placed both his hands on top of his shoulders and leaned closer to him. His dark brown colored eyes, just as his, stared at him _"Never. Never kill without need, understood?"_

He gulped before nodding. He understood. The ways of the hunter, as Father used to call them, where something he had been taught ever since he was born. And although most of them where still incomprehensible for him, he slowly began to understood.

"_Good. Now pull the string back with three fingers and place the arrow…"_ Whatever his explanation was, Rhys never heard it.

At first, it was just a small itch on one of his eyes. Then it spread towards the other, growing in intensity as the itch appeared to originate from the very inside of his head. Desperate to ease the pain he tried rubbing his eyes, only for his hands to remain holding the bow and string.

"_Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump…" _This sound arrived to his ears and began to overshadow anything else.

In distress, he tried opening his mouth to call for help, but it appeared to take forever for it to open even one inch. Anguished, he tried to look around him to find whatever was causing it, and he was shocked to discover small root-like things on every single leaf of the bush he was hiding in; the way in which the breeze changed its direction; an impossible amount of footprints surrounding the pond and markings all over the rocks on its shore…

"_Huff-huff-huff…" _He heard the faint breathing of one of the dears. Turning his gaze towards them, his eyes quickly revealed to him an astonishingly amount of details.

'_The one on the left has been drooling a lot. There is also dry blood on its lips. Tis obviously sick'_ He was amazed by the quickness in which these thoughts appeared in his head _'The other one is healthier and does not appear to be sick. Which means…'_

As if someone else was doing it, Rhys saw his left hand letting go the string and in an extremely slow way, he stared at the arrow making its way into the deer. Unable to turn his sight, he saw the mere moment in which the animal's life extinguished from its eyes as the projectile hit it right between the eyes.

"Rhys…That-That was…" Father's voice made him break free of whatever had happened to him. He had nausea and both his eyes felt as if he had been staring directly at the sun for a long, long time. Faint trails of what he believed were tears went down his face.

He turned to his right and saw the speechless visage of Father.

"Father…"

"FATHER!" He shouted with all the strength in his lungs as he ran towards the cabin.

He was returning home after catching some rabbits in the woods, when the acrid smell of smoke arrived to his nostrils. But this didn't not scared him, no. What had his heart beating as fast as it could was the familiar sickly sweet smell of fresh blood being spilled. Trouble from bandits was always a possibility, but Father's and the other men's presence always pushed them back, not to say that not many people knew about the village. Once he stepped out of the forest, he was met by the horrible image of docens of houses being burned by intense flames. The crops everyone had tended so carefully had been long since reduced to ashes.

Dropping the rabbits he had been carrying, he rushed between the ponds of blood and corpses, trying to get home as quickly as he could. It did not matter how sick he felt from looking at the expression of horror coming from the dead faces of people he had knew his entire life, no; it did not matter how much his legs burnt after having hunted in the woods the entire day, no. All that mattered was finding Father, or Mother, or Sister. Anyone that could tell him what had happened!

"FATHER! MOTHER! SISTER!" He scram with all his might as he arrived to their home. But he felt on his knees at the burning sight of the cabin. In front of him was…was…was…the death body of Father pierced by docens of cuts...

"_No…No…No…!" _tears felt down his eyes as he got closer and began to frenetically shake Father's body_ "Father! Wake up! Please…Wake up…Father..." _

"RHYS!"

"Rhys" Acknowledged the Master without turning back.

The young boy was pleased with himself as he stepped out of the darkness. The hell of a training he had been forcing upon himself was giving its results. He had to thank Anne later that night. If it had taken that long for someone as skilled as the Master to notice him hiding in the shadows, then _they_ didn't stand a chance against his arrows. All that was left was the next step in his plan.

"I want thee to take it out." He said with a serious tone, staring deep into the Master's eyes.

"Eh?" The Master's visage was of utter confusion "Thou, what?"

"My heart. I want it out." His voice was like venom as he placed is hand over his chest, the Master's eyes widening upon realization "Thee have told us that this thing, the heart" He held tightly into his chest "Tis responsible for these "emotions". I don't want any of those, not anymore."

The Master shocked his head in disbelief "Do-Do thou know what thou are asking!?"

"I do. And hereby I am asking thee" Rhys kneeled at the cold stone floor "Please remove my heart"

"But the magi for that!-The magi…"

"_The…The magi…Tis fading…"_ Rhys whispered as he stared at the sea of souls escaping from such a cursed place. From the wall he was currently leaning against, he saw hundreds of human spirits making their way towards the exit of the cave.

It was done. So many lives had been lost there; so many sacrifices had been needed in order to save those that were already death. For the first time in many, many years, he truly realized how tired he was; the only thing that had motivated him all those years was the desire to bring pain and death to those responsible from the loss of his family and he hadn't even been able to achieve that. In that case, had his life been worthless?

'_One thousand five hundred twenty eight'_ the count in his head was getting closer to the chosen time.

If he would had been able, he would have shed a tear or two at the scenario that played in front of him; if he had been able to, he would have cursed both the heavens and underworld for having caused him so much pain in his short nineteen years of life. Instead, he simply looked at the fading souls of the death making their way into whatever place they'd go to. He would surely meet them in a bit, as he bled from hundreds of cuts in his body where life was slowly escaping from him. His chest hurt in a way he did not believed even possible, as the new marking had been inscribed deep into his own flesh.

Heaven and hell. There was a time where he wondered about their existence but this, along with many other things, had been revealed to him when he chose to become a hunter. Would he be welcome in either of those places? He knew it was impossible. He had broken so many rules from both places during his life and had sent many more people to them as well. Instead, the dying boy put a hand inside one of the pockets of his ruined coat and pulled out a small urn of clay. It had amazed him how something so small held so much capacity of destruction, if his memory served him well. Allister…Allister had been a genius….

'_One thousand five hundred sixty seven'_

'_This is the end for it all, is it not, Rhys? _' called Arael from the inside of his head. The boy turned lazily his sight towards the four-peak shaped tattoo on his right wrist.

'_And yet, it did not make any real difference. A real peace between the three of ye will never be achieved and many more will die because of thine war'_

'_You are nobody to say those things.'_

"_Aahahaha! You're not being serious, are you?__"_ Morrigan's amused voice echoed in his mind _'Us devils will always hate you angels and fallen, and so will you. That's our nature… and it will always be.' _Rhys believed he heard a bit of remorse in her last words, although it could be the blood loss interfering with his normal thoughts.

'_I believe it's time'_ the boy thought as he looked at his left wrist, where the skull shaped tattoo rested _'They… will try to bring me back as one of their own, don't they?' _He lazily asked. It was getting… harder… to keep thinking straight.

'_Yes.'_

'_In that case… I will not… give them the chance'_ His left hand clenched firmly onto the urn while his right hand held a knife against his throat _"Thank you" _He muttered what he knew would be his last words. And with that in mind, he threw the urn towards the top of the cave, right before making a long cut from side to side of his neck.

The last thing he saw was the blinding light of the explosion. Allister was a genius indeed….'

...

_One_

* * *

''The calmness that had surrounded him ever since he had conscience was being hastily sifting between intervals, forcing him to change his position until he was facing downwards. Faints screams of pain could be listened to and the atmosphere on the outside was that of physical effort and pain, although oddly enough, on the same time there was joy. The mixture of emotions was unlike anything he knew before. He was alone as well; the other presence he had grown used to in the warmth, suddenly gone as if it had never existed at all. Suddenly, everything around him wrapped tightly and he began to be pushed down an opening. There was something coming from it, something that hurt his eyes so much that he had to close them.

Physical pain then came from his front side and a scream escaped from his mouth. Everything was cold, colder anything than he had ever knew, but it was not long before something surrounded him entirely. It was not as warm as before, and it was not as soothing as the warmth, but it was far better than being left out in that cold. He heard a relieved laughter and cries of joy.

"This one's a boy!" exclaimed a female voice he had never listened to before.

"How-Ugh…How will we name him….?" Her voice was closer to him and it sounded greatly exhausted and in pain, but as in the warmth, there was joy. He…knew that voice. It had always been there, ever since he was conscious…

"Rhys…"

"_Rhys, keep thy hand still and held firmly the bow._" Father whispered to his ear as he placed his hands over his, putting him in the correct position.

They were deep into the woods, having left the farm at dawn. Hidden inside the bushes near the pond, they had waited patiently as the sun rose above their heads, until a pair of deer appeared right in the opposite site of them. His cheeks hurt so much because of the undying smile on his face since he woke up and he was making a great effort not to laugh in excitement and scaring the animals a few yards away from them. How long had he longed for Father to teach him to use a bow! For far too many nights he had contemplated Grandfather's bow above the fireplace, waiting for his opportunity, and now, he would finally be able to prove to Father how capable he was. Unknowingly to both Mother and Father, he had sometimes rose from his bed at night and grabbed the bow, trying to imitate the posture Father always seemed to make when he had it (he had been lucky that Carys always slept until dawn)

"_Everything inside each one of us is borrowed and like __**one**__ of these deer' _Father made special emphasis on that word_ 'it will have to be returned one day to Nature, for others to use_" Father placed both his hands on top of his shoulders and leaned closer to him. His dark brown colored eyes, just as his, stared at him _"Never. Never kill without need, understood?"_

He gulped before nodding. He understood. The ways of the hunter, as Father used to call them, where something he had been taught ever since he was born. And although most of them where still incomprehensible for him, he slowly began to understood.

"_Good. Now pull the string back with three fingers and place the arrow…"_ Whatever his explanation was, Rhys never heard it.

At first, it was just a small itch on one of his eyes. Then it spread towards the other, growing in intensity as the itch appeared to originate from the very inside of his head. Desperate to ease the pain he tried rubbing his eyes, only for his hands to remain holding the bow and string.

"_Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump…" _This sound arrived to his ears and began to overshadow anything else.

In distress, he tried opening his mouth to call for help, but it appeared to take forever for it to open even one inch. Anguished, he tried to look around him to find whatever was causing it, and he was shocked to discover small root-like things on every single leaf of the bush he was hiding in; the way in which the breeze changed its direction; an impossible amount of footprints surrounding the pond and markings all over the rocks on its shore…

"_Huff-huff-huff…" _He heard the faint breathing of one of the dears. Turning his gaze towards them, his eyes quickly revealed to him an astonishingly amount of details.

'_The one on the left has been drooling a lot. There is also dry blood on its lips. Tis obviously sick'_ He was amazed by the quickness in which these thoughts appeared in his head _'The other one is healthier and does not appear to be sick. Which means…'_

As if someone else was doing it, Rhys saw his left hand letting go the string and in an extremely slow way, he stared at the arrow making its way into the deer. Unable to turn his sight, he saw the mere moment in which the animal's life extinguished from its eyes as the projectile hit it right between the eyes.

"Rhys…That-That was…" Father's voice made him break free of whatever had happened to him. He had nausea and both his eyes felt as if he had been staring directly at the sun for a long, long time. Faint trails of what he believed were tears went down his face.

He turned to his right and saw the speechless visage of Father.

"Father…"

"FATHER!" He shouted with all the strength in his lungs as he ran towards the cabin.

He was returning home after catching some rabbits in the woods, when the acrid smell of smoke arrived to his nostrils. But this didn't not scared him, no. What had his heart beating as fast as it could was the familiar sickly sweet smell of fresh blood being spilled. Trouble from bandits was always a possibility, but Father's and the other men's presence always pushed them back, not to say that not many people knew about the village. Once he stepped out of the forest, he was met by the horrible image of docens of houses being burned by intense flames. The crops everyone had tended so carefully had been long since reduced to ashes.

Dropping the rabbits he had been carrying, he rushed between the ponds of blood and corpses, trying to get home as quickly as he could. It did not matter how sick he felt from looking at the expression of horror coming from the dead faces of people he had knew his entire life, no; it did not matter how much his legs burnt after having hunted in the woods the entire day, no. All that mattered was finding Father, or Mother, or Sister. Anyone that could tell him what had happened!

"FATHER! MOTHER! SISTER!" He scram with all his might as he arrived to their home. But he felt on his knees at the burning sight of the cabin. In front of him was…was…was…the death body of Father pierced by docens of cuts...

"_No…No…No…!" _tears felt down his eyes as he got closer and began to frenetically shake Father's body_ "Father! Wake up! Please…Wake up…Father..." _

"RHYS!"

"Rhys" Acknowledged the Master without turning back.

The young boy was pleased with himself as he stepped out of the darkness. The hell of a training he had been forcing upon himself was giving its results. He had to thank Anne later that night. If it had taken that long for someone as skilled as the Master to notice him hiding in the shadows, then _they_ didn't stand a chance against his arrows. All that was left was the next step in his plan.

"I want thee to take it out." He said with a serious tone, staring deep into the Master's eyes.

"Eh?" The Master's visage was of utter confusion "Thou, what?"

"My heart. I want it out." His voice was like venom as he placed is hand over his chest, the Master's eyes widening upon realization "Thee have told us that this thing, the heart" He held tightly into his chest "Tis responsible for these "emotions". I don't want any of those, not anymore."

The Master shocked his head in disbelief "Do-Do thou know what thou are asking!?"

"I do. And hereby I am asking thee" Rhys kneeled at the cold stone floor "Please remove my heart"

"But the magi for that!-The magi…"

"_The…The magi…Tis fading…"_ Rhys whispered as he stared at the sea of souls escaping from such a cursed place. From the wall he was currently leaning against, he saw hundreds of human spirits making their way towards the exit of the cave.

It was done. So many lives had been lost there; so many sacrifices had been needed in order to save those that were already death. For the first time in many, many years, he truly realized how tired he was; the only thing that had motivated him all those years was the desire to bring pain and death to those responsible from the loss of his family and he hadn't even been able to achieve that. In that case, had his life been worthless?

'_One thousand five hundred twenty eight'_ the count in his head was getting closer to the chosen time.

If he would had been able, he would have shed a tear or two at the scenario that played in front of him; if he had been able to, he would have cursed both the heavens and underworld for having caused him so much pain in his short nineteen years of life. Instead, he simply looked at the fading souls of the death making their way into whatever place they'd go to. He would surely meet them in a bit, as he bled from hundreds of cuts in his body where life was slowly escaping from him. His chest hurt in a way he did not believed even possible, as the new marking had been inscribed deep into his own flesh.

Heaven and hell. There was a time where he wondered about their existence but this, along with many other things, had been revealed to him when he chose to become a hunter. Would he be welcome in either of those places? He knew it was impossible. He had broken so many rules from both places during his life and had sent many more people to them as well. Instead, the dying boy put a hand inside one of the pockets of his ruined coat and pulled out a small urn of clay. It had amazed him how something so small held so much capacity of destruction, if his memory served him well. Allister…Allister had been a genius….

'_One thousand five hundred sixty seven'_

'_This is the end for it all, is it not, Rhys? _' called Arael from the inside of his head. The boy turned lazily his sight towards the four-peak shaped tattoo on his right wrist.

'_And yet, it did not make any real difference. A real peace between the three of ye will never be achieved and many more will die because of thine war'_

'_You are nobody to say those things.'_

"_Aahahaha! You're not being serious, are you?__"_ Morrigan's amused voice echoed in his mind _'Us devils will always hate you angels and fallen, and so will you. That's our nature… and it will always be.' _Rhys believed he heard a bit of remorse in her last words, although it could be the blood loss interfering with his normal thoughts.

'_I believe it's time'_ the boy thought as he looked at his left wrist, where the skull shaped tattoo rested _'They… will try to bring me back as one of their own, don't they?' _He lazily asked. It was getting… harder… to keep thinking straight.

'_Yes.'_

'_In that case… I will not… give them the chance'_ His left hand clenched firmly onto the urn while his right hand held a knife against his throat _"Thank you" _He muttered what he knew would be his last words. And with that in mind, he threw the urn towards the top of the cave, right before making a long cut from side to side of his neck.

The last thing he saw was the blinding light of the explosion. Allister was a genius indeed….'

...

_Twenty six_

* * *

''The calmness that had surrounded him ever since he had conscience was being hastily sifting between intervals, forcing him to change his position until he was facing downwards. Faints screams of pain could be listened to and the atmosphere on the outside was that of physical effort and pain, although oddly enough, on the same time there was joy. The mixture of emotions was unlike anything he knew before. He was alone as well; the other presence he had grown used to in the warmth, suddenly gone as if it had never existed at all. Suddenly, everything around him wrapped tightly and he began to be pushed down an opening. There was something coming from it, something that hurt his eyes so much that he had to close them.

Physical pain then came from his front side and a scream escaped from his mouth. Everything was cold, colder anything than he had ever knew, but it was not long before something surrounded him entirely. It was not as warm as before, and it was not as soothing as the warmth, but it was far better than being left out in that cold. He heard a relieved laughter and cries of joy.

"This one's a boy!" exclaimed a female voice he had never listened to before.

"How-Ugh…How will we name him….?" Her voice was closer to him and it sounded greatly exhausted and in pain, but as in the warmth, there was joy. He…knew that voice. It had always been there, ever since he was conscious…

"Rhys…"

"_Rhys, keep thy hand still and held firmly the bow._" Father whispered to his ear as he placed his hands over his, putting him in the correct position.

They were deep into the woods, having left the farm at dawn. Hidden inside the bushes near the pond, they had waited patiently as the sun rose above their heads, until a pair of deer appeared right in the opposite site of them. His cheeks hurt so much because of the undying smile on his face since he woke up and he was making a great effort not to laugh in excitement and scaring the animals a few yards away from them. How long had he longed for Father to teach him to use a bow! For far too many nights he had contemplated Grandfather's bow above the fireplace, waiting for his opportunity, and now, he would finally be able to prove to Father how capable he was. Unknowingly to both Mother and Father, he had sometimes rose from his bed at night and grabbed the bow, trying to imitate the posture Father always seemed to make when he had it (he had been lucky that Carys always slept until dawn)

"_Everything inside each one of us is borrowed and like __**one**__ of these deer' _Father made special emphasis on that word_ 'it will have to be returned one day to Nature, for others to use_" Father placed both his hands on top of his shoulders and leaned closer to him. His dark brown colored eyes, just as his, stared at him _"Never. Never kill without need, understood?"_

He gulped before nodding. He understood. The ways of the hunter, as Father used to call them, where something he had been taught ever since he was born. And although most of them where still incomprehensible for him, he slowly began to understood.

"_Good. Now pull the string back with three fingers and place the arrow…"_ Whatever his explanation was, Rhys never heard it.

At first, it was just a small itch on one of his eyes. Then it spread towards the other, growing in intensity as the itch appeared to originate from the very inside of his head. Desperate to ease the pain he tried rubbing his eyes, only for his hands to remain holding the bow and string.

"_Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump…" _This sound arrived to his ears and began to overshadow anything else.

In distress, he tried opening his mouth to call for help, but it appeared to take forever for it to open even one inch. Anguished, he tried to look around him to find whatever was causing it, and he was shocked to discover small root-like things on every single leaf of the bush he was hiding in; the way in which the breeze changed its direction; an impossible amount of footprints surrounding the pond and markings all over the rocks on its shore…

"_Huff-huff-huff…" _He heard the faint breathing of one of the dears. Turning his gaze towards them, his eyes quickly revealed to him an astonishingly amount of details.

'_The one on the left has been drooling a lot. There is also dry blood on its lips. Tis obviously sick'_ He was amazed by the quickness in which these thoughts appeared in his head _'The other one is healthier and does not appear to be sick. Which means…'_

As if someone else was doing it, Rhys saw his left hand letting go the string and in an extremely slow way, he stared at the arrow making its way into the deer. Unable to turn his sight, he saw the mere moment in which the animal's life extinguished from its eyes as the projectile hit it right between the eyes.

"Rhys…That-That was…" Father's voice made him break free of whatever had happened to him. He had nausea and both his eyes felt as if he had been staring directly at the sun for a long, long time. Faint trails of what he believed were tears went down his face.

He turned to his right and saw the speechless visage of Father.

"Father…"

"FATHER!" He shouted with all the strength in his lungs as he ran towards the cabin.

He was returning home after catching some rabbits in the woods, when the acrid smell of smoke arrived to his nostrils. But this didn't not scared him, no. What had his heart beating as fast as it could was the familiar sickly sweet smell of fresh blood being spilled. Trouble from bandits was always a possibility, but Father's and the other men's presence always pushed them back, not to say that not many people knew about the village. Once he stepped out of the forest, he was met by the horrible image of docens of houses being burned by intense flames. The crops everyone had tended so carefully had been long since reduced to ashes.

Dropping the rabbits he had been carrying, he rushed between the ponds of blood and corpses, trying to get home as quickly as he could. It did not matter how sick he felt from looking at the expression of horror coming from the dead faces of people he had knew his entire life, no; it did not matter how much his legs burnt after having hunted in the woods the entire day, no. All that mattered was finding Father, or Mother, or Sister. Anyone that could tell him what had happened!

"FATHER! MOTHER! SISTER!" He scram with all his might as he arrived to their home. But he felt on his knees at the burning sight of the cabin. In front of him was…was…was…the death body of Father pierced by docens of cuts...

"_No…No…No…!" _tears felt down his eyes as he got closer and began to frenetically shake Father's body_ "Father! Wake up! Please…Wake up…Father..." _

"RHYS!"

"Rhys" Acknowledged the Master without turning back.

The young boy was pleased with himself as he stepped out of the darkness. The hell of a training he had been forcing upon himself was giving its results. He had to thank Anne later that night. If it had taken that long for someone as skilled as the Master to notice him hiding in the shadows, then _they_ didn't stand a chance against his arrows. All that was left was the next step in his plan.

"I want thee to take it out." He said with a serious tone, staring deep into the Master's eyes.

"Eh?" The Master's visage was of utter confusion "Thou, what?"

"My heart. I want it out." His voice was like venom as he placed is hand over his chest, the Master's eyes widening upon realization "Thee have told us that this thing, the heart" He held tightly into his chest "Tis responsible for these "emotions". I don't want any of those, not anymore."

The Master shocked his head in disbelief "Do-Do thou know what thou are asking!?"

"I do. And hereby I am asking thee" Rhys kneeled at the cold stone floor "Please remove my heart"

"But the magi for that!-The magi…"

"_The…The magi…Tis fading…"_ Rhys whispered as he stared at the sea of souls escaping from such a cursed place. From the wall he was currently leaning against, he saw hundreds of human spirits making their way towards the exit of the cave.

It was done. So many lives had been lost there; so many sacrifices had been needed in order to save those that were already death. For the first time in many, many years, he truly realized how tired he was; the only thing that had motivated him all those years was the desire to bring pain and death to those responsible from the loss of his family and he hadn't even been able to achieve that. In that case, had his life been worthless?

'_One thousand five hundred twenty eight'_ the count in his head was getting closer to the chosen time.

If he would had been able, he would have shed a tear or two at the scenario that played in front of him; if he had been able to, he would have cursed both the heavens and underworld for having caused him so much pain in his short nineteen years of life. Instead, he simply looked at the fading souls of the death making their way into whatever place they'd go to. He would surely meet them in a bit, as he bled from hundreds of cuts in his body where life was slowly escaping from him. His chest hurt in a way he did not believed even possible, as the new marking had been inscribed deep into his own flesh.

Heaven and hell. There was a time where he wondered about their existence but this, along with many other things, had been revealed to him when he chose to become a hunter. Would he be welcome in either of those places? He knew it was impossible. He had broken so many rules from both places during his life and had sent many more people to them as well. Instead, the dying boy put a hand inside one of the pockets of his ruined coat and pulled out a small urn of clay. It had amazed him how something so small held so much capacity of destruction, if his memory served him well. Allister…Allister had been a genius….

'_One thousand five hundred sixty seven'_

'_This is the end for it all, is it not, Rhys? _' called Arael from the inside of his head. The boy turned lazily his sight towards the four-peak shaped tattoo on his right wrist.

'_And yet, it did not make any real difference. A real peace between the three of ye will never be achieved and many more will die because of thine war'_

'_You are nobody to say those things.'_

"_Aahahaha! You're not being serious, are you?__"_ Morrigan's amused voice echoed in his mind _'Us devils will always hate you angels and fallen, and so will you. That's our nature… and it will always be.' _Rhys believed he heard a bit of remorse in her last words, although it could be the blood loss interfering with his normal thoughts.

'_I believe it's time'_ the boy thought as he looked at his left wrist, where the skull shaped tattoo rested _'They… will try to bring me back as one of their own, don't they?' _He lazily asked. It was getting… harder… to keep thinking straight.

'_Yes.'_

'_In that case… I will not… give them the chance'_ His left hand clenched firmly onto the urn while his right hand held a knife against his throat _"Thank you" _He muttered what he knew would be his last words. And with that in mind, he threw the urn towards the top of the cave, right before making a long cut from side to side of his neck.

The last thing he saw was the blinding light of the explosion. Allister was a genius indeed….'

...

_Eighty nine_

* * *

Eighty nine times. Eighty nine had been the times Rhys had been both born and had died; eighty nine had been the times the boy had lost both his own family and his friends; eighty nine had been the times he had made the same mistakes over and over again. All of it, while been perfectly aware.

It did not matter how hard he tried to avoid it, anything he did, whatever he did, could not truly stop what he knew would happen; Rhys could not warn anyone of the impending events that would come, he was not able. He was conscious but powerless to do anything about them, and thus, he had been forced to repeat the same paths over and over again.

Eventually, it happened what would have scared him the most if he remained able to feel any real emotion and not just simply a façade: he got used to it. No longer had he enjoyed the sight of those he had lost; no longer had he tried to stop the imminent tragedies that were coming his way. He just simply let them be. Was this his own punishment for his doings in life? To relive over and over his own existence for all eternity, while growing mad with the desperation of never been truly able to do anything else? That was doubtful. For all he knew, God was already long dead.

But what would be his ninetieth time relieving his nineteen years of life was different, much more different. Instead of the warmth he had grown used to as the begging of another round for that routine his life had turned to, everything around him was dull. Pure and numb emptiness surrounded him, and anywhere he would look at, was the strangest mixture of colors he had ever seen. White, purple, blue, green, yellow, black and red danced in front of him in unmentionable shapes over and over. Oddly enough, there appeared to be a distinguishable prevalence of the color red. His own reflection appearing right in the middle of such dance, His own form nearly translucent from head to toes.

There was no up and down in such place, and neither existed the concept of time itself. For how long he remained there, he would never knew. It could had been days of even entire years, but time had lost its meaning to him once he had died for the third time. He just simply stared at the dancing colors in front of him, seeing how the red began to gain more and more presence over the others. It was when it had mostly consumed them all, that what would certainly be considered a world shattering earthquake, shook the entire existence of whenever he was, and what could be the most colossal creature he had ever seen, manifested. Pure and raw power emanated from what he had recognized as a dragon. And it was not a simple dragon, no, he had seen many of those before. It was nearly impossible for someone that considered themselves knowledgeable about the supernatural, for not knowing "Him".

"**You"** His mighty roar extended wherever they were **"It's been a while since I last saw you" **That was…anger in His last statement?

Rhys did not answered and simple stared at The Dragon's eyes.

"**Don't you know who I am, boy?"** His tone appeared a bit similar to some of the thugs he had been faced during his life over and over.

"I do"

"**Then you should know I HATE been stared at!"** As if to make his point, He blew a giant cascade of golden fire, hotter than anything he had experienced before **"You should consider yourself lucky that I find you interesting enough to be forgiven, boy"**

"Tis not as I am asking for thy forgiveness, am I not?" He said coldly while staring another time into The Dragon's eyes.

For second occasion, Rhys did not how long he and Great Red remained staring defiantly at each other's eyes, only that neither wanted to break eye contact with another. Then he saw it, a small curve lifting up a bit the humongous lips of The Dragon.

"**You've got guts, boy"** He smirked as an idea appeared to arrive to His mind **"Yes, it'll be really interesting"**

An unthinkable amount of power began to escape from His body and began to circle around Rhys'.

"**Yes! This is a great idea. All of your strengths and all of your weaknesses back." **A grin grew on The Dragon's face** "With something extra to stop you from dying like the last time. It took me a bit to found you."**

The colossal energies began to wrap tightly around the boy's body, and a pain he never thought possible took hold over his own form.

"Wh-Argg!…What are thee doing to me!?" He managed to exclaim as he was being constricted more and more.

"**Sending you back of course. Although not to your time, no." **His grin only grew bigger and bigger** "That would be far too boring. Tell me, what were your thoughts about the future?"**

Realization drew on Rhys' face as he understood what The Dragon meant. Back to the world, his world. Not his old life for the ninetieth time, but to a new life.

"No! I refuse!" He would not allow Him to send him back!

"**That's funny, I don't remember asking for your permission, boy" **As if possible, He sent more energy towards his body. And despite all the training he had gone through, all the methods he knew to block the pain, he couldn't stop but scream in agony as his full being became irradiated with raw energy **"Be sure to make your life even more amazing this time, will you?"**

* * *

_**Thank you for reading. Please write your comments and suggestions. I apologize for any mistake you might find.**_

_**Have a nice day.**_


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